


Slithering Through History

by Bemused_Writer



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Biblical References, Other, Slow Burn, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bemused_Writer/pseuds/Bemused_Writer
Summary: Crowley was all too happy to get out of Hell and cause a little trouble up in Eden. What he didn't realize is how much more wrapped up in humanity and a very particular angel he was about to become.A look at what Aziraphale and Crowley might have gotten up to throughout the biblical text and after Armageddon.





	1. The Garden

Falling entailed a great many things and poets had done a fairly decent job of capturing the horror and the chaos thereof. What they’d never quite been able to capture was what came after. Yes, hellfire, brimstone, pain, suffering, all staples of Hell but no one ever really let on just how crowded it actually was down there or just how corporate. Crowley thought it was probably due to how much more real and depressing _that_ would have been and probably because the concept of a corporate entity wouldn’t truly exist until the 20th century.

It wasn’t so bad in the early days before human souls were being damned left and right. No, in the early days it had only been fallen angels and they’d been frightened and confused, desperately trying to sort out what they were supposed to do now they were no longer part of the Heavenly Host.

It had taken awhile for it to sink in but their punishment was to inflict pain and suffering—Satan had given them a long lecture about it in the tone of voice of a man who really didn’t care anymore and wasn’t it marvelous he had his own throne? Afterwards he’d put Beezlebub in charge whose eyes had widened comically before accepting. Crowley had had to restrain himself from giving a sibilant chuckle at the whole absurd affair.

Still, Crowley had often wondered how much of a punishment it really was if so many of them enjoyed it. Oh, they’d been reluctant at first. They’d been _angels_ and they didn’t know much about pain, not really. It took several meetings and presentations before the seven sins were sorted out and everyone felt like they had at least some idea of what their jobs entailed.

In fairness, Crowley could admit a good number of them didn’t derive any real pleasure out of torture but they weren’t all that hung up about it either. “It’s just a job,” they would say. “Nothing personal.”

Crowley desperately tried to convince himself he felt the same. He was a demon and he would do his duty. He wouldn’t fail, not like Before.

Still, he knew the truth of it and it was he hated it down there. The second Satan said, idly, “Would you like to see the Earth, darling?” after one of his presentations on wrath he jumped on the chance as swiftly as possible.

He broke through the warm soil and felt as if he’d been reborn. He turned his head left and right and slithered about. Most snakes had legs but he thought there was something delightfully off-putting going about on his belly, no legs in sight, draping himself about trees; he was the very picture of sloth, which was, in turn, positively sinful and if sinning was to be his eternal gig he was going to indulge.

The garden was, he reluctantly admitted, utterly stunning insofar as his limited senses could tell. He supposed that was Heaven for you; always caring about presentation more than anything else.

While his eyesight was utterly shot compared to what it had been as an angel he could tell there were infinitely more colors here than there ever had been up there _or_ down there. Heaven was very … stringent when it came to looks. He wasn’t sure he’d seen anything other than opulent whites, rivers that gleamed like the finest opals, and gossamer robes made to match when he’d been there. Every now and then there’d been a gold pillar or some such. As for Hell, they couldn’t be bothered to decorate. Some idiot had licked the wall once and died on the spot. They’d spray painted a warning on the wall and called it good and that was about as close to design as they came.

But this felt … very earthy for lack of a better word. He could feel the vibrations of footsteps of all manner of creatures. He couldn’t make out much sound though. There were some serious downsides to being a snake, he decided. The garden was nice and warm though, which was good. He didn’t think he was made for the cold.

Now, what kind of trouble should he cause?

He circumnavigated the garden and used his tongue to detect all the heavy flavors in the air, hoping to spot God’s latest creatures, the humans. He could taste something divine to the east, light as a cloud and sharp as judgment. An angel.

He’d have to steer clear of that for a while, at least until his work was done. It had been ages since he’d seen one of his previous brothers-in-arms. He’d certainly never tasted one before. He thought about that for a moment. Something about the sentiment seemed … appropriately demon-like but it wasn’t a joke that would make much sense until he understood humans more and their penchant for lewd humor.

At long last he spotted a woman named Eve. He also spotted the two trees that were off limits: The Tree of Life and The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad.

He considered the three for a moment. The Tree of Life was certainly handy but that would almost definitely qualify as a “good deed,” no doubt about it. Knowledge of good and evil on the other hand…. Well, it wasn’t “bad” exactly but it definitely wasn’t “good” either. In other words, it was just wicked enough to keep his bosses happy without being _so_ wicked he felt bad about it.

Perfect.

Apparently, God found it a good deal more wicked than Crowley had. Eve and her husband, Adam, were banished from the garden lest they also eat from the Tree of Life and become a little too god-like themselves.

Also, punishments were dished out like candy. Apparently, there would be enmity between him and women, there would be birthing pangs, and men would till the earth.

 _I rather liked that woman,_ he thought glumly.

Most annoying of all was that _all_ snakes were slithering about on their bellies. So much for originality. Needless to say, the other snakes weren’t thrilled. He avoided them for a century after. It was utterly ridiculous; they were animals and he was a demon—he was more than capable of winning any confrontation—but he couldn’t quite make himself look them in the eye all the same. He was sort of their demonic representative and, well, now they didn’t have _legs._

Even small creatures would bear a grudge over that for a while.

Regardless, Adam and Eve suffered a lot more for his sin than he did. Maybe that was why he sought out the angel gazing after them longingly atop the gate. He wouldn’t readily admit it but he felt a little guilty about the whole thing and his curiosity was piqued. The angel looked utterly miserable, far more than him, which made no sense whatsoever. He wondered if they’d ever known each other in Heaven.

As he slowly transformed into a more human guise his senses changed along with him. He could hear loads better now for a start but his eyesight was still iffy albeit a little sharper than before. He could sense movement well, make out shapes, see color although not like he had a as an angel. The color was … splotchy. He supposed he was seeing the heat radiating off of things or something similar. He may have been a snake but he was hardly an expert. Thankfully, he could still taste everything on the air and that gave him enough information to get by.

He was a little disappointed he couldn’t make the angel’s features out all that well though. Still, he was the brightest object in the surrounding area by far, so he was easy to spot.

The angel jolted a little bit when he saw him. Understandable. He could just make out the pinched expression on the angel’s face; it was hilarious but he kept that to himself.

He hadn’t expected much by way of conversation. Honestly, he’d known there was a pretty high chance the angel would try to smite him but instead they had a decent enough exchange. Apparently, he’d given away his fiery sword. It was the first time Crowley had felt awe in … ages. His heart gave a little tug in his chest that he refused to name.

As they stood in the rain with Crowley safely sheltered beneath an angelic wing, Aziraphale, said, “You know, I was supposed to be the one to guard The Tree of Life for the rest of time.”

“Sounds boring,” Crowley said without hesitation. All the world to explore and he was going to be stuck guarding a gate? But then he realized, “Wait, what do you mean ‘supposed to be?’”

Aziraphale let out a put upon sigh. “Well, to quote, ‘He drove the man out, and stationed east of the garden of Eden the cherubim and the fiery ever-turning sword, to guard the way to the tree of life.’”

“Er, what exactly are you quoting?”

“A book that hasn’t been written yet,” the angel said miserably. “But the main point is I’m supposed to be guarding this gate and I’m supposed to do it with a fiery sword. Well, you see what the problem is.”

“You gave up the sword.”

“Precisely.”

“So, the humans could become immortal at any point?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I think they understand they’re banned from this place but what about their descendents? Oh, I probably did do the wrong thing. No, I _know_ the sword bit was wrong but the rest…”

“No offense but if God wants to hide this garden I’m sure She can do just that. If you were going to be punished it would have happened already.”

The angel shifted uncomfortably, his eyes refusing to make contact with Crowley’s own. Crowley eyed him with suspicion.

After a bit more hemming and hawing Aziraphale finally whispered, “I’m not a cherub anymore. God didn’t say anything but… I could feel it. The demotion, that is.”

“What are you now?” Crowley said with careful neutrality.

“A principality,” he sighed. “All the way down to the third sphere.”

“Not so bad. You could have gone down a lot further.”

Aziraphale paled considerably and his eyes widened in shock. It was like he was seeing him for the first time and only now understood what he was. Crowley tried not to look too uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“I suppose you make a good point,” he finally said, turning away.

“I usually do.”

Privately, he wondered _why_ Aziraphale hadn’t Fallen. It left an ache in his chest when he remembered his own Fall and how pointless it had seemed.

“So, what will you do now?” Aziraphale said just as the storm finally passed. He looked up with a pleased little smile. Crowley couldn’t help but feel his burden lift a bit at the sight. It was nice to have someone who wouldn’t push him away even if his status as angel was utterly bewildering.

“Oh, you know, tempt people, I suppose. I’m to be stationed on Earth.”

“I suppose that is what you’d be doing,” Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose I’d best keep an eye on this gate for now.”

“No offense but there’s no way I’m staying in this garden.” Although part of him desperately liked the idea of hanging about the angel. All before him was an expanse of desert and only two humans to occupy it. Crowley didn’t want to admit it but it sounded rather lonely.

Aziraphale let out a quiet chuckle. “No, I didn’t suspect you would.”

“Would be a shame if demons were the only ones trying to make a difference,” Crowley said lightly with just the barest hint of the temptation he was trying to accomplish.

“Someone needs to inspire some good in this world,” Aziraphale said consideringly.

“I’ll see you around, angel,” he said with a gentleness that surprised him. He could have pushed harder but … it just didn’t seem right.

“You know, you just might.”

When Crowley departed he decided not to resume his snake form just yet. He kind of liked appearing human. It reminded him of being an angel and, better yet, was just a little bit blasphemous because of it. The other demons had gone to quite a bit more trouble to look wicked but Crowley decided he wanted to have a bit of style. It would be a lot easier to tempt humans if he looked like them as well not that there were any new ones to try it out on yet. It was a big world though and he hadn’t yet explored most of it.

His mind made up he headed back for Hell. He’d get his report in, take a look at what God had created, see what Eve got up to, and maybe, if he was lucky, see more of Aziraphale if he was ever free to explore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a bit of research on snake biology but I'm not an expert, so if you see anything really amiss about that or anything else let me know! Also, for biblical quotes I used the JPS translation since it's what I have readily available.


	2. Cain and Abel

Crowley’s return to Hell was met with far more enthusiasm then he’d ever expected. It would also be the last time anyone was particularly excited to see him down there but for now he was allowed to relish the accolades and consider that maybe, just maybe, he was actually cut out for this.

He was drawn into one of the larger rooms, more of a cavern than anything else--nothing but different shades of grey to his eyes--where he was met with Beezlebub, Prince of Hell, in all their glory. They wore a rather slimming black robe and a fly hat, which Crowley found both ridiculous and terribly suiting. He could only make out the outline of it but he knew what it was because he knew how on point Beezlebub could be.

They waved him over, his eyes latched onto the movement, and he gave a slight bow. He’d been expecting Satan but, frankly, Beezlebub was much easier to deal with. Ever since they’d been put in charge things had been rigid but predictable. Crowley could live with predictable.

“So, you tempted Eve,” they said without preamble. “You’ve performed the very _firzzt_ temptation.” They winced slightly as their buzzing took over their speech momentarily. It was a nervous tick with Beezlebub and Crowley wondered if there was something he was missing here.

“I am happy to announce it was a resounding success,” Crowley said with a cheeky grin, deciding that whatever was wrong it was probably Beezlebub’s problem and as such he didn’t really care.

“Hm. Our Lord will be pleased to hear it,” they said.

“Where is our Lord anyway?” Crowley said, glancing about the dank room. “He loves this kind of stuff.”

“I’ve been put in charge as you may recall,” Beezlebub said. “You were there for the proceedings.” Well, that explained the throne, Crowley supposed but not much else and while he recalled the hearings he’d still thought Satan would make his presence a little more overt.

“What, all of it? Completely?”

Beezlebub was starting to look annoyed but all they said was, “Yes, all of it. You’ve earned a commendation and a title, if you wish.” They coughed slightly as a fly made its way into their mouth. Crowley winced at the sight; demons were so … inelegant at times.

“I’ve always wanted a title,” he said. That was a lie; Crowley had never cared about such things but if Hell was going to promote him he wasn’t going to complain about it.

“Good. In that case, you will be my right hand.”

“Er, come again?”

“My right hand,” they said again.

“Yeah, not sure I’m following.”

Beezlebub’s flies were buzzing swifter in agitation and Crowley hastily tried to piece it all together.

It finally dawned on him what the matter was after a prolonged, irritated silence where Crowley witnessed Beezlebub’s temperature rise ever so slightly. Their body burned awfully bright for a demon. He glanced around in a mild panic, hoping there was someone else in the room he could suggest instead of himself.

Oh, blast it all; Beezlebub’s problem was starting to become his own, wasn’t it?

“You’re trying to create a hierarchy,” he said at last when he couldn’t find a single other demon.

“Heaven has one. We need one _azzz_ well,” they said a touch defensively. “Lord Satan has deemed it so.”

Oh, so the Dark Lord _did_ get the final say on things still. It figured the one who had gotten them all tossed out of Heaven would try to recreate it in his own twisted way.

“Look, I’m flattered, really, but I don’t want to do that much … work,” he admitted, wishing desperately he could have smoothed that out a bit.

“What else would you do?” Beezlebub said irritably. “You _do_ work here.”

“But I was to be your agent on Earth!” he said desperately. Beezlebub stared down at him in silence, no doubt with a heavy dose of judgment.

He was struck with a sudden epiphany and his eyes lit up. “Earth!”

“Earth?”

“I tempted the first human, didn’t I?” He swept a lock of his hair over his shoulder, arching a brow as he did so. He looked decadent and therefore terribly convincing by Hell’s logic. Beezlebub seemed unimpressed but that was the standard with them anyhow.

 _“Yezz,”_ they said stonily. “What about it?”

“Aren’t you going to need someone to do more of that? Someone who is guaranteed to bring you results?”

“I suppose so,” they said reluctantly. “There will be plenty of demons sent to Earth periodically for just such a purpose. But you’re not saying you should be one of those. You want to be a permanent one?”

“Heaven has one,” Crowley said, thinking quickly. “Someone’s got to keep an eye on him.”

 _“What?”_ Beezlebub cried. They stood up suddenly in rage, their hands clenched at their side. “What do you mean they have a permanent agent?”

“Oh, you know how it is up there. They’re trying to sway the realm of mortals to their side. Why should we make it easy for them?”

Aziraphale wasn’t actually a permanent agent. He was just a gate guardian but Crowley had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case for long and, well, he wanted to be there when it changed.

Oh, Beezlebub was furious. They were pacing now and their clouds of flies were expanding exponentially. Crowley backed away slightly; those things were more dangerous than they looked.

“That world is just as much ours as it is theirs,” they buzzed angrily. “The nerve of them to think they can overtake neutral ground! Fine. You will be our agent on Earth but you aren’t getting a title.”

Crowley just nodded slightly as a swarm of flies got a little too near his face for comfort.

“If I might make a suggestion,” he said, shrugging just a bit as if it were no big deal.

 _“What?”_ they growled.

“I dunno but, maybe Dagon? Lord of Flies, Lord of the Files, you know. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Dagon isn’t a lord,” they said but it was said thoughtfully and Crowley knew he had won.

“Not yet, you mean. And besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone familiar with the, uh, more mundane part of the job, am I right?”

They let out a low hum of agreement before finally taking a seat again. “All right, you’ve made your point, Crawly. You will be stationed on Earth for the foreseeable future. I will speak with Dagon. Hopefully she is more amenable than you have been.”

“Oh, come on, you love the idea, you know you do.”

“Hm.” They were smiling though and once again Crowley was in Hells’s … well, not good books but as close as one could get.

-x-

When he got back to Earth he let out a sigh of relief; the air really was sweeter up here where there was actual life. He stretched out his muscles, felt the pull of his ligaments, and felt infinitely more alive than he had mere seconds ago.

 _How rigid is that place going to get?_ he wondered. Hierarchies, an industrial complex, mind numbing paperwork… Blimey, but they were sounding an awful lot like how he remembered Heaven. Add a holier-than-thou attitude and they’d be just about there.

He glanced about. He’d ended up in the desert once more and he figured he was probably close to where he’d been previously. The only difference was he couldn’t see Eden anywhere.

 _Knew God would hide it,_ he thought. Well, it was time to look for the humans anyway. Seeing as he was a demon it didn’t take long; he could travel much faster than any mortal could and he covered miles in the blink of an eye until he finally found some small, mud brick huts in the middle of the desert. He settled on a distant dune, slouching lazily in the sand, and smiled softly as he realized Eve had had two children and looked like she might have another. He’d been down in Hell longer than he’d realized. He’d have to let Dagon know about that; having differing timelines would make reporting difficult.

He stayed like that for several hours until the sun began to set. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting for anything but there was something peaceful about watching the humans as they went about their business. Eve was stitching some clothes together and Adam was attmpetting to till the land. They had several fruit trees and some goats. He thought they were goats. He hadn’t paid enough attention to all the animals’ names. They were near a river, which he supposed was smart; earlier he had seen Adam try to catch some fish.

_So much progress in such a short amount of time._

“Crawly? Is that you?”

His heart swelled before he stamped it down. So, the angel was out and about rather than shackled to that gate of his. That was a good sign. When he glanced over he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. Aziraphale looked more or less the same; he was radiant.

His aura was as blinding bright as before, more so given the inky darkness that surrounded them now, but he was too far away for Crowley to see his expression. He sounded happy though.

“Hey, Aziraphale,” he said.

“My! I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you after all; you were gone an awfully long time. Whatever are you doing here? I thought you’d slithered on back to Hell, so to speak.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I’m watching the humans. It took a bit to convince Hell I should stay up here. Apparently, I did too good a job.”

Aziraphale tutted softly before he settled beside him on the sand. He sat primly with his legs stretched out and his hands in his lap and Crowley wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone look more uncomfortable. He was also seated a great deal closer to Crowley than seemed entirely called for but it was getting dark and the warmth of the sun was rapidly dwindling as the chill of the moon took over, so Crowley let him stay where he was, a solid warmth at his side. The night air was rather chillier than he’d anticipated.

“Who're the kids?” Crowley finally asked. The humans had gone inside hours ago but he knew Aziraphale would know who he was talking about. There were only two children in existence so far.

“I believe she named the boy Cain,” Aziraphale said, "and the girl Awan. She’ll have her next children soon as well. I’m rather excited to meet them. A boy and a girl again,” he said in a confiding tone of voice.

“Know what they'll be already?” Crowley said with amusement.

“I’m an angel,” Aziraphale said only a touch defensively. “I’m permitted some insights.”

“Sure, sure, no need to consider privacy. So, seems I wasn’t too far off when I said your lot was trying to influence the Earth after all.”

“I suppose you’re referring to the fact I’ve spoken to them to which all I can say is who else am I supposed to be talking to?” Crowley silently acknowledged that was a decent point. “Besides, I’m not influencing them directly,” Aziraphale said without a hint of guilt. “I just help guide them on occasion. You know, encourage them to do good. Oh,” he said with sudden realization. “I suppose you’re here to do the opposite.”

“That’s me, evil incarnate,” Crowley drawled.

“I don’t know about that,” Aziraphale murmured. “Although I suppose you are a demon….”

“As demonic as they come.” He was trying hard not to be offended at the implication he wasn’t as intimidating as he ought to be.

A gust of wind blew by and he shivered unconsciously. Why was the desert so cold at night? It was perfect in the day. Actually, he was starting to feel a little lethargic. Aziraphale seemed the same as ever, so whatever it was was only affecting him.

“Is everything all right there, Crawly?”

“Mm, I don’t think … I’ve never been up here during nighttime,” he replied slowly with a yawn.

“I don’t see why that should make a difference,” Aziraphale said in confusion.

“Ssleepy,” he said.

“You’re… tired? But you’re a demon. I mean, we come from the same stock more or less and I feel fine. I don’t think we need sleep.”

“’m also a snake,” Crowley pointed out. “You’re not.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with it,” Aziraphale said only a touch haughtily. Crowley would have smiled if his limbs weren’t starting to turn to lead.

“I think… ssomething’s actually wrong… It’s cold…”

Aziraphale hesitated before reaching out for him. He gripped his arm as if a viper might burst forth from it. His grip was a delightfully warm brand.

“Oh, you are quite chilly…. I see snakes hunting at night on occasion but I think they usually do so during the day.” It would be a while before either of them learned how many species of snakes there were or the different ways they interacted with their environment but Aziraphale was perfectly correct when he followed up with, “Maybe the cold is dangerous for them?”

“Why would God design creatures that can’t handle the cold?” Crowley protested.

“I can’t explain everything She does,” he said irritably. He glanced up as if he were afraid God would strike him down for blasphemy. “Regardless, Crawly, I think I should get you somewhere warm. At the very least we’ll know if the cold was the matter. Come on now. Good man.”

“Not a man,” Crowley grumbled but he allowed Aziraphale to drag him into a standing position and with a snap of his fingers they were in an entirely different environment. He couldn’t see the humans at all and they were surrounded by fig and pomegranate trees, their scent sweet in the air. Crowley breathed it in deeply. It was nice but it did nothing to loosen up his stiff muscles. Ahead of them was a looming, rocky mountain covered in all manner of shrubbery.

“There’s a little cave here in the side of the mountain. I’ll get a fire going.”

When they entered Aziraphale helped set him down and a fire miraculously crackled to life. There wasn’t any wood.

“Quite a few miracles today,” Crowley mumbled.

“I’m hardly about to let you die,” Aziraphale huffed. “Even if you are my adversary.”

Crowley nodded sleepily. He’d never slept before but oh, it felt so tempting now and who was he to say no to temptation?

But before that he had to let him know as much as a demon could tell an angel anything. “Aziraphale?”

“What is it?”

“Just, you’re a good adversary. Not sure I’d like another one all that much.”

As he started to nod off he swore he saw Aziraphale lean toward him, just close enough that he could make out a smile on his face. He wondered what he’d done to deserve it.

-x-

A few months went by and Eve had her second child, Abel and his sister, Azura. A few years after that and all her children were adults. It all went in the blink of an eye to Crowley.

“They grow up so quickly,” Aziraphale marveled, unknowingly voicing every parent’s shock. The two sons were adults now and had built their own homes near their parents. Abel was something Aziraphale called a "shepherd," which seemed to amount to tending a whole lot of sheep. Cain assisted his father more and took to farming his own bit of land. 

Crowley found it strange himself. He and Aziraphale had been created fully formed, ready to do God’s bidding. But humans changed _so much._ He’d thought Adam and Eve would be immune to those changes; they were already adults but they still looked … older, he supposed. More world weary.

“Aziraphale,” he said slowly. “How long do humans live?”

They were sitting together under a date palm. Aziraphale was unfazed by the weather but it was overcast and Crowley didn’t much like it. No, he’d learned his lesson all those years ago when Aziraphale had had to drag him all the way to his cave just to warm him up. He made sure to set time aside to bask in the sun now even if he felt ridiculous doing so.

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know,” Aziraphale shrugged. “However long God wants them to, I suppose.”

“And you’re all right with that then,” Crowley said.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be,” Aziraphale sighed. “What’s bothering you now?”

“It’s just…” he struggled for a more demonic way of voicing his sentiment so it wouldn’t end in “it’s sad.”

“Don’t you think it’s wrong? Their lives could end any minute and what’s the point? Cain and Abel are both preparing some gift for God and why? Why does God need gifts? She won’t allow them to live longer for it, will She?”

“I do believe you’re over thinking this,” Aziraphale said smartly. “They learn lessons while they’re here on Earth and then afterwards they receive their reward or their punishment as the case may be.”

“An eternal punishment,” Crowley said. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Honestly, Crowley. I don’t have all the answers. God is… God.”

“Thank you for that insight. I never would have known,” he said sarcastically.

“It’s been set up this way for a reason is what I mean. Their physical bodies may end but they will continue on. Why worry yourself?” The gentle, confused tone went right over Crowley’s head and all he could hear was God saying, _You ask too many questions, Crowley. You ask the questions of a challenger not of one who could learn._

“Why aren’t _you_ worrying?” Crowley said bitingly before stomping off or, more accurately, snapping his fingers so he was miles away and then stomping around a bit.

It figured that an angel would be cold, indifferent, and lacking in empathy. He should have remembered that from Before.

He missed the way Aziraphale reached out for him in bewilderment as he left.

It only took a few days for him to return to Aziraphale with a grudging apology and an offering of some food he’d miracled into existence. Aziraphale had simply nodded in acknowledgment and they’d moved on from there.

-x-

“You know, you never told me why you’re watching them,” Aziraphale said as he munched consideringly on a grape.

“Surely you must know,” Crowley said in disbelief. He waved Aziraphale’s offering away. He liked grapes and food but he didn’t like it nearly as much as Aziraphale and it was rather nice to watch him eat his fill. There was something bizarrely satisfying about it.

Aziraphale considered it for a moment. “You’re my adversary,” he said understandingly. “You’re here to spread wickedness but you haven’t pursued it as much as I thought you might.”

“Might be doing it while you’re not looking,” Crowley said with a smirk.

“I fail to see how that’s the case. You’re always with me.” Crowley’s smile immediately vanished. “I won’t let you have your way, you know,” Aziraphale continued. He chewed on another grape and Crowley couldn’t help but think that Aziraphale was made up of contrary traits. It was endearing how he claimed he would stop Crowley, act as if they were enemies, all while insistently pushing food into his hands as if they were close friends.

“I didn’t expect you to. But you know, I don’t think it would be all that difficult to rile them up.”

“Good Lord, haven’t you done enough to them already?” he demanded.

“If I left it at that Hell would have something to say about it. They’re not the forgiving sort down there, you know.”

“Oh, never mind all that,” Aziraphale sighed. Crowley finally accepted a grape as a peace offering and wondered why he’d let the matter drop so suddenly. The angel’s nose was scrunched up in consternation. “I really should be guarding the eastern gate but… what’s there to guard?” he said quietly to himself. “The humans aren’t there anymore.”

Crawly shrugged nonchalantly. He didn’t particularly care whether Aziraphale was doing his job or not. Guarding a gate that was already being watched by God sounded like a pointless task to him.

“I thought you were given the okay to be out here,” he said because he honestly had. He’d made the bit about Aziraphale being Heaven’s agent on Earth up to Beezlebub but he’d figured it was more or less true or would be.

“Well, sort of. I didn’t really ask but God never said I couldn’t.”

“Ha! The demoted angel just keeps on testing fate is what you’re telling me.”

Aziraphale glowered as much as an angel _could_ glower. The effect was positively ruined by his chewing. When the last of the grapes was gone he heaved a sigh before turning toward him once more.

“You know,” he said in a softer tone of voice, “I meant to ask how you’re holding up. I know God wasn’t pleased with you either back then.”

That was a surprise. He supposed compassion was better late than never. “No, but it’s hard to top ‘eternal damnation’ as a punishment. It was the other snakes that got it.”

“The other snakes?”

“No legs,” he said nonchalantly. “It was supposed to be my thing but so much for that.”

“I don’t really get the no legs thing. I mean, you have them right now.”

“Yes, but not when I’m a snake.”

“Well, do you think you’re going to go around as a snake again anytime soon?”

“Not really,” Crowley admitted. “Not all that fond of being so near people’s feet.”

“Not much of a punishment really,” Aziraphale said. “You can avoid it whenever you like.”

“You’re forgetting the ‘damned for eternity’ bit.”

“Oh, right…”

They drifted into an uneasy silence that lasted quite a long time by human standards but they were eternal; it didn’t seem all that long even as the sun slowly made its trek across the heavens.

-x-

Unfortunately, Aziraphale was correct to be worried about Crowley watching over the humans not that Crowley had intended for anything particularly nefarious to happen.

“He’s dead!” Aziraphale exclaimed in horror staring down at Abel’s still body. Cain had run off in terror or possibly just confusion. He had no idea how terrible his crime really was just yet.

Crowley could feel the emptiness radiating from Abel’s still body. Whatever had been there before, the person, was long gone. Crowley supposed Abel must have gone to Heaven but Aziraphale was so overcome he wasn’t sure. He felt hollow inside, remembered his conversation with Aziraphale from before, and wondered what it said about him that he couldn’t help but feel incredibly neutral about the whole thing. If Crowley had had access to modern medical knowledge he would have recognized it as something like shock.

“This has never happened before,” Crawly murmured. He valiantly refrained from poking the body in morbid fascination as if that would somehow bring it back.

“Of course not you rascally serpent! Oh, this never would have happened if I’d just watched over that tree properly to begin with,” Aziraphale moaned.

Crowley appreciated how when it came to anything really important Aziraphale managed to twist it around to be his own fault. He had it down to an art form. Crowley was almost offended; he was the mischief-maker around here. Still, much as he wasn’t particularly keen on having an angel’s wrath descend upon him he couldn’t let him go on thinking he’d caused the first murder on Earth.

“I… may have had something to do with this,” he admitted.

“The whole apple business? I know, dear fellow, I know.” He gripped him consolingly on the arm and Crowley felt even worse. Angels (or maybe just this one) really were good at making him regret his sins.

“Er, yeah, there’s that and, well, you know.”

“What, exactly, do I know?” Aziraphale said, his eyes narrowing.

Crowley grappled for words, his mouth bobbing up and down awkwardly before he finally said, “Look, he just asked me if I thought it was fair for God to accept one offering and not the other. I just gave my honest opinion.”

Aziraphale buried his face in his hands. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. It’s in your nature to wreak havoc and discord and, oh, did you tell him to?” He looked up at him, torn. “Did you encourage him to murder the same way you encouraged Eve to eat that apple?”

“What? No! I just said God was an unfair lout, that’s all. I didn’t think he’d up and kill his brother over it!”

“God is not a—oh, never mind. Really now…”

They both gazed down at Abel a while longer in dismal silence.

“I don’t suppose I can miracle him back to life, can I?” Aziraphale said quietly.

“No, I don’t suppose so,” Crowley said miserably. “I’m sorry, Aziraphale.”

“It’s not your fault, not really. They have free will! Isn’t that marvelous…”

Crowley remained silent. He knew what happened to angels who asked too many questions and Aziraphale was dangerously close to doing just that.

Eventually Aziraphale ushered them away from the scene. Crowley had wanted to console the family but Aziraphale convinced him otherwise.

“There’s still the matter of you and Eve,” he said gently. “She would despise you all the more if she found out you had anything to do with her son’s death.”

He heard their cries of horror and he heard the thunderclap of God’s voice as She punished Cain. For a split second Crowley feared he might face righteous judgment once more himself but he was left blessedly (ugh!) alone.

 _I didn’t mean for this to happen,_ he thought miserably.

“Do you think he understands his crime?” Aziraphale said when they were back at the same cave he’d taken him so long ago. It was Aziraphale’s home of sorts, had been for a while, and considering how often Crowley stayed with him it was nearly his, too.

“Doubt it,” Crowley said. He laid out beneath one of Aziraphale’s fruit trees, cushioned his head with his arms and propped a leg up. He made sure his robes kept him modest but he allowed his hair to fan out behind him. He didn’t look to confirm it but he could feel Aziraphale’s disapproving frown.

“It’s his first,” Crowley continued, unperturbed by the angel’s scrutiny, “and the first mistake is always the hardest to accept.” _And impossible to undo,_ he added silently.

“I suppose you’d know,” Aziraphale said testily.

Crowley remained silent and eventually Aziraphale miracled himself somewhere else. Crowley could feel a faint trail of divine energy heading east. He couldn’t discern how far he’d gone but ultimately it didn’t matter; he’d have to return at some point. It was their jobs to oversee these humans until there were finally more humans and they could branch out.

Now that he was alone he allowed himself a moment to contemplate where he was in the world and how things were already changing. Knowledge of good and evil and the first murder committed. Not even the first death. No, the humans went straight for murder. He wondered, what did it say about God’s latest creation that they had to be punished again and again? He thought of Abel’s blood, slowly creeping across the earth, and the shattered cry of the land as it realized what horror had been done.

“No, you can’t undo that,” he murmured to himself. His eyes slipped closed and he thought about damnation and curses and whether the Earth was any better off than the rest of them. He always did ask too many questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll edit this a bit more later but the chapter is basically done. I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Note: I edited things to include Cain and Abel's sisters because otherwise it's hard to explain where all the other humans came from. The names are from the Midrash according to the admittedly quick research I did. If there are any errors let me know!


	3. The Flood

With Cain’s banishment Crowley decided it might be time to do some traveling himself and seeing as Cain was departing he supposed he’d follow after him. It hurt to watch a family in the midst of mourning, especially since they had no idea why Cain had murdered Abel or that Abel’s soul would live on in God’s embrace.

Crowley found the concept cold comfort at best. Good and evil. Cain and Abel. Wasn’t it all determined by God anyway? Wasn’t She the one who allowed for it all to go so wrong in the first place?

When he went to tell Aziraphale he was leaving for a time he left out his questions and his reasoning. He was in no mood to engage in a theological debate with his supposed archnemesis.

“You’re really leaving?” Aziraphale said in a hurt tone of voice. He’d found him just outside the cave like usual. Aziraphale certainly was a creature of habit.

“I’m not exactly going to be far away,” he said in exasperation. “You can find me whenever you like.”

“Yes, but there’s no reason for you to leave to begin with! Cain has already been tempted _and_ punished. What more is there for you to do with him?”

“Worried your job is going to be too easy without me?” he said with a sly grin that didn’t really match his mood all that much.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not that I’m going to miss you—“

“Of course you won’t.”

“—It’s just a simple matter of what’s best for you. Surely Hell would be more interested in your keeping an eye on this place where there are _more_ humans, not less.”

Crowley looked about, trying not to let the flustered, confused angel sway him. His mind was made up; he would travel alongside Cain for a time, see if he could figure out how it had all gone so wrong.

“Hell hasn’t given me a specific assignment yet, so I can do as I please,” he said by way of explanation. “Honestly, Aziraphale, what’s the matter?”

“The matter,” he sputtered, trying and failing to look dignified, “is that-- I don’t want to be left with-- They won’t-- Oh, never mind! Just go if that’s what you’re of a mind to do.”

He whisked himself away before Crowley could get a word in edgewise. “Right, well that was a thing,” he said irritably before he miracled himself a safe distance from Cain and his wife, Awan. They were trudging their way through the desert looking utterly miserable. Crowley was privately surprised Awan had opted to stay with him after all the chaos with Abel. She and Abel had always gotten along well enough. As for Cain, Crowley noticed bitterly he now had red hair. God had marked him so all knew not to harm him in the same way as Cain had his brother but as far as Crowley was concerned it was just another slight against him. He had tempted Eve and created sin. Now he’d accidentally tempted Cain and brought about yet more sin.

 _At least Hell will be pleased,_ he thought drearily. He had to remind himself he was a demon. This was the whole reason he was on Earth to begin with--to… to foment chaos and discord. If anything, he should be relishing in his success, accidental or otherwise. He was doing an absolutely smashing job of ruining the humans’ lives.

Invariably his thoughts returned to Aziraphale, the only other being who might have understood what he was going through if he could take two seconds to get off his holy pedestal. What had all that been about anyway? _Bloody angel never bothers to make any sense,_ he thought scathingly. Maybe he would ignore him. For a little while. He had other things to do anyway. Reports to write, humans to tempt, sites to see. He didn’t need Aziraphale around to get things done.

-x-

Cain eventually founded a city he named Enoch and that was around when things really took off population-wise. Decades turned to centuries and his short break from Aziraphale turned into something much longer. It all went by in the blink of an eye to him but he found himself feeling lonely all the same. He never spoke with Cain again—another human that wanted nothing to do with him—but he was permitted to speak with some of his descendents. He was particularly fond of Jubal who created some of the first instruments, the lyre and pipe. Crowley swiftly decided that not only did he like Jubal but he deeply liked music. It reminded him a bit of Heaven only this was better. Heaven liked _celestial_ types of things but humans had variety. He wondered if he could get Hell to try out some tunes.

“So, tell me, what do you think you’ll compose next?” he said idly one day from where he was strewn out on the floor of the roof. He rather loved that humans had decided to keep outdoor rooms on the roof; it was perfect for bathing in the sun. He’d been invited for dinner and Jubal’s wives were busy in the downstairs area preparing it.

Jubal gave him an amused look from where he sat cross-legged across from him. “I do not know. I’ve considered writing a song dedicated to the Lord.”

Humans had finally started invoking God’s name. Crowley had mixed feelings on that. On one hand, it meant they were a lot more aware of things than they had been previously and made actual attempts to pray for change; they could ask questions and Crowley could only approve of that. On the other, it meant he had to hear about God a lot more and he wasn’t all that pleased about it.

“Good for you,” he said instead. “But it seems like a bit of an obvious theme for a song, don’t you think?”

“Oh?” Jubal said with a knowing glint in his eye. He leaned forward slightly. “I suppose you’d like it if I wrote a song about you?”

“Maybe I would,” Crowley said with a wide grin. “Maybe I would like that very much.”

For a while things passed like that in relative peace. Crowley conducted the occasional temptation but nothing on par with what he’d done previously. Whenever Hell asked about he always claimed there wasn’t all that much to work with. “They just herd sheep,” he would say. This resulted in him being given actual assignments and quite a few of those required him to tempt people to steal each other’s sheep. He didn’t mind; it was simple enough to do.

Crowley was now acquainted with several humans of Adam’s line and had seen progress the likes of which he’d never imagined. He was almost happy provided he didn’t contemplate his adversary too much. He knew Aziraphale was still watching over Adam and Eve and he desperately wanted to ask him how things were going. Had they ever overcome the pain of losing Abel?

It wasn’t until Noah’s time he saw Aziraphale again and that was a small travesty. He’d been quite pleased to see him but he didn’t actually want him to know that, especially after Aziraphale’s bizarre reaction last time, so he made sure to tease him a bit, asked about the fiery sword just to give the angel a headache before it dawned on him something was very wrong.

He knew Noah was building a big boat although the why of it had eluded him. He wasn’t pleased when he learned of God’s “tetchiness.” He was even less pleased by Aziraphale’s continued defense of the Almighty.

 _He’s an angel,_ he reminded himself. _Do you really want him to Fall and wind up like you?_

Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that, no, he still didn’t want that even if his adversary was a bit dense on occasion.

As the waters rose Crowley clutched at the angel for dear life. He really didn’t want to be discorporated due to _water_ of all things. He knew Hell would be unimpressed even if it was water summoned by God and he just really didn’t want to figure out some way of explaining it all. Aziraphale held him just as tightly; his eyes were clenched shut in concentration or possibly just to ignore the sight of the dying locals. They were flailing awfully but it was the sound that really left Crowley feeling ill. So many were crying out to God when they weren’t choking to death or just plain screaming in despair. He held onto Aziraphale a little tighter still and tried to ignore their feeble cries for mercy. God would show them no mercy here. He let out a low moan of horror when he and Aziraphale were finally pulled under themselves. They tumbled about in the water until Crowley’s head hit something and everything went black.

-x-

“Crawly? Crawly, you must get up now. It’s over. It’s finally over.”

“No,” he groaned. Everything hurt and he knew there was water in his lungs. He focused and miracled most of it away. He still wound up heaving on his hands and knees. Beneath him the soil felt muddy and he knew he was a mess. Distantly, he recognized Aziraphale’s touch. He was rubbing circles into his back and sending careful, probing bursts of divine healing into him. It stung a bit; if Crowley wasn’t fairly certain he’d nearly been discorporated he would have told him to stop—divine grace was dangerous for a demon to say the least.

“Now, don’t be like that. We’ve spent forty days and forty nights together, so you could be a little grateful.”

“We’ve _what?”_ Crowley coughed, more water making its way out of him.

“I got us on a little makeshift raft at some point but it wasn’t easy going, let me tell you.”

Crowley didn’t bother deigning that with a response. He was too busy heaving until he thought his lungs just might give out and he’d be discorporated regardless of Aziraphale’s efforts.

Aziraphale gave an exasperated tut before sending a sudden bolt of divine healing all through his body. Crowley howled in pain before shouting, “What was _that_ for, you—”

“There now, all better,” Aziraphale said calmingly when Crowley finally managed to get into a seated position.

Crowley gave him a murderous glare. “No, not all better,” he gasped. “I feel absolutely horrendous and you just about smote me on the spot.”

“I did no such thing; I was actually quite careful with how I healed you. At any rate, I’m sure you’re wondering about what’s happened. I just saw Noah send out a dove, so the humans should begin repopulating this area of the Earth. You, er, passed out down there,” Aziraphale said. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

Crowley hadn’t been sure he’d make it either. He was honestly a little surprised to find himself on Earth at all but more than that, “Oh, I am soaked,” Crowley moaned. “Look at this! My hair…”

“Your hair looks lovely,” Aziraphale said exasperatedly, “but if it will make you feel better…” He snapped his fingers and suddenly Crowley was significantly dryer. He tentatively fingered the braid he’d been trying out as a look. It seemed to be fine along with the rest of him.

“Sure you should be wasting miracles on someone like me?” Crowley said carefully.

Aziraphale shrugged. “It was a simple task; barely even qualifies as a miracle, I’d say. I’m sure upstairs won’t mind.” Crowley doubted that very much but all he said was, “Thanks, Aziraphale.”

“Still there’s something I wanted you to see. Take a look.” He pointed above them.

Reluctantly, Crowley obeyed. He stifled a gasp of awe; above them was some kind of … light bridge. It gleamed in all manner of colors and filled the sky. A deep sorrow tugged at his heart; this was the one part of Heaven he really did miss: the unanticipated beauty that would occasionally make itself known, those little things that didn’t fit the mold so perfectly.

And now it was here, on Earth.

“What is it?” he said, his voice slightly choked.

“That’s the rainbow I mentioned earlier,” Aziraphale said softly. “It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said in wonder. “It is.”

That day an angel and a demon huddled together in awe amidst the bodies of the dead and overhead was the promise of peace, distant and effervescent.

Crowley barely managed to tear his eyes away from it to study Aziraphale for a moment instead. He wore a simple, white robe and appeared exactly the same as when they’d first met and yet centuries had passed. Centuries and the last thing they’d spoken to one another had been an argument and despite that…

Aziraphale had kept him safe for forty days and forty nights and barely seemed to recognize that as noteworthy. It wasn’t how he was supposed to treat his adversary, Crowley knew that much. Heaven was sure to disapprove.

He knew he would do anything for Aziraphale in that moment if he only asked.

Thankfully, he didn’t. Aziraphale was looking upwards still and Crowley was reminded of Eden, of that strange feeling he’d felt toward the angel. The feeling was back once more and it tugged at him with a frustrating persistence.

 _Not now,_ Crowley inwardly sighed. _I’m not ready to tackle something like that at the moment._

“What should we do?” he said quietly. The land disturbed him; there was nothing to do see all around save for those bodies and a few straggly trees.

“Well, humans have expanded far and wide,” Aziraphale said consideringly, finally looking back at Crowley. His eyes were wide with wonder and joy and possibly a little relief. “Perhaps we ought to look around. I think I’d like to get proper lodging.”

“Don’t tell me you stayed in that cave the whole time,” Crowley said in exasperation.

“It was quite cozy after a while,” Aziraphale said awkwardly. “I was used to it.”

“Right. Well, I say we find someplace large. A city would be grand.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Aziraphale sighed. “Part of me misses the peace and quiet before Adam and Eve had all those children.”

“Oh, come on; the world is more interesting with people in it. We could pop over to China or something for a bit.”

“Perhaps. I think I ought to make sure everything is all right here first. Noah will have a hard time rebuilding.”

Aziraphale stood reluctantly and extended Crowley a hand. He took it gratefully and the two began to wander towards the ark.

“Well, maybe I’ll stick around a while longer,” Crowley finally said.

“Oh, will you?” Aziraphale said in the tone of voice of someone who is actually quite excited but trying very hard to hide it.

“Yeah. Missed you a bit and all,” Crowley said. He was surprised how easy it was to admit.

“Really now; no doubt you just want to try to thwart me,” Aziraphale said but there wasn’t any heat in it.

“Well, obviously,” Crowley said with a chuckle.

They continued on in silence with only the occasional gust of wind and the wet sand beneath them as company. Crowley felt a bit better than he had before. He’d enjoyed his time with the humans but there was something to be said for a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured Crowley would like whoever created music; he likes it so much in the series after all!


	4. Babel

Crowley sat atop a large dune as he looked over the bustling city before him: Babel. It was truly a marvel and the largest city to date. He and Aziraphale had lived here happily for some time (Aziraphale was initially reluctant, but even he couldn’t ignore the allure of the good food and company the city provided). What really had Crowley intrigued right now was the construction taking place in the center of the city.

It was to be a tower, he knew that much, and it would be the first of its kind. Humans had been getting several new ideas of late, and Crowley was a big fan of several. Still, he had a premonition about this tower, for lack of a better way of phrasing it, but he couldn’t quite say what was wrong. It was a big building and it was incredibly elaborate, especially when compared to everything else in the vicinity. Crowley thought it was beautiful. And yet, there was an aura about it that spoke of misfortune. As a supernatural entity, more specifically an ex-angel, he could sense when things were about to go sideways.

Perhaps he was reluctant to believe his hunch because he had sort of encouraged the construction of the building. He’d been spending a lot of time with architects of late—he loved their interest in creation both beautiful and practical—and when one had admitted to wanting something grand, grander than all the land had achieved, Crowley had pounced. He, too, wanted to see what a little grandeur might be like on Earth. It might be neutral ground, but that didn’t mean they had to embrace dullness.

“Oh, Crawly, there you are!”

It was a now familiar voice and Crowley felt a small grin form despite his best intentions.

“Aziraphale, how are you?” he drawled.

When he looked up the angel was as he ever was: brighter than anything in the vicinity yet contained in a way most angels weren’t. He was calmer now as well, thought just a bit. Perhaps he’d gotten used to Crowley’s company at long last.

“I’ve been better,” he confided, taking a seat next to him. Crowley arched a brow but refrained from saying anything. Aziraphale still didn’t bother putting up any defenses around him. He’d be offended if it weren’t so charming.

“How do you mean?”

“It’s just … can’t you feel it? God’s displeased, I should say.” His brow crinkled with discontentment. Once again Crowley refrained from pointing out how unangelic it was to disagree with the Lord even silently.

“Yes, I do sense it, hence why I’m all the way over here rather than rollicking about in town,” he intoned. “Your lot seem to have a lot of issues with these humans.”

Crowley may have been the one causing a lot of this trouble, but what did it say that he was so successful every single time? Surely God could allow a bit of mischief without having a complete conniption over it. So what if they built a big tower?

“We do, rather,” Aziraphale murmured. “Well, this monument of theirs is a bit gauche. I mean, challenging the Almighty like that!”

“Is that what they’re doing,” Crowley deadpanned.

Aziraphale twitched in a way that might have been the start of a shrug or may have simply been due to the sudden decrease in temperature. Suddenly, “Oh!”

Crowly shifted in concern at the alarmed cry.

“They finished the last stone,” Aziraphale breathed.

It took a bit, but eventually all the workers left and they were permitted a vision almost like that of Heaven’s: the tower reached upwards, proud and mighty with graven images of angels and demons and all manner of pagan spirits. Crowley’s sight was poor, he knew that, but the sheer size of it allowed him to make out even some of the smaller details, and he could feel the weight of its existence before him.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Crowley murmured. “Look at all those ideas and opinions out on display for all to see.”

“You’re not at all worried?” Aziraphale demanded accusingly.

“It’s just a tower,” Crowley said without much conviction. “What harm could that be?”

“Likely more than either of us would think, er…”

“Yeah,” Crowley admitted grudgingly. “Probably.”

The air was getting colder and he knew it wasn’t simply because of evening. No, this was God’s wrath, building slowly but surely overhead. He stared glumly at the tower, wondered if there would ever be another like it after whatever came next. Hopefully not another flood; God had promised not to, but there wasn’t any rainbow out right now.

“Oh, I do pity them,” Aziraphale said in distress.

Crowley looked upon the icy heavens and murmured with the utmost sincerity, “So do I.”

His gaze returned to the inhabitants. He’d grown fond of some of the people here and he wondered: would they even last the night?

“What will happen to them?” he said. “Will they be killed like all those people before?”

Aziraphale hedged a bit, tried to act like he wasn’t sure. Crowley gave him a look and the angel faltered before sighing and admitting, “I may have heard a bit of what’s to come next.”

“Thought so,” he said victoriously. His sense of accomplishment was short lived as he remembered the gravity of the situation. “So… what then?”

“The tower will be destroyed because of hubris,” Aziraphale announced pointedly.

“Yeah, I gathered that much just from all the, the psychic energy gathering around,” Crowley huffed.

“ _Psychic energy?_ ” Aziraphale repeated in disbelief. “Really, Crawly, that’s just disrespectful and—“

“’And demonic and this is why you were cast out,’ blah, blah, blah. So what about after the tower’s destroyed?”

“Well,” Aziraphale faltered. “There was something about scattering them all over the earth. I don’t think that means they’ll die.”

“Scattering? What, like a pile of leaves?” he asked sardonically.

“I don’t have all the answers, Crawly,” Aziraphale said with obvious irritation. “I may be God’s agent on Earth but I’m just one angel. She only tells me so much.”

“You’re a principality; surely that gets you something?”

“Not really. It’s the third sphere Crawly, you know that.”

“But you’re an angel,” he insisted.

“ _Just_ an angel, and not a very important one.”

Crowley mulled that over for a moment. The wind was starting to pick up and he shivered slightly; the cold still wasn’t for him, it seemed.

“You’re still higher up than I ever was,” he mumbled. “More important. Seems like you should be told more.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale had the nerve to sound terribly sad. “Every angel is important, my dear. You were, too, regardless of your rank.”

Crowley’s heart lurched. “Don’t say that,” he hissed, trying to ignore the flush working its way up his cheeks.

“I know it’s a sensitive topic with you being a demon and all but I can’t have you believing you’re not impor-“

“Not that,” Crowley interrupted, desperately trying to get the conversation back on course. “’My dear;’ don’t say that.”

“Why ever not?” Aziraphale said in confusion. “We’ve known each other for a little while. We get on well enough, surprising though that is.”

“It’s just … not what I am, all right? Just leave it.”

Aziraphale looked very much like he wanted to continue the debate but he pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. It was just as well because seconds later the tower exploded and the people were, in fact, scattered about. It was like he was witnessing history being fast forwarded; suddenly one odd city was broken into several villages and the tower was a mere scorch mark upon the ground.

The chill in the air slowly dissipated and the heavens returned to a nice cobalt hue. Unnerved, Crowley turned to Aziraphale and said, “That was even stranger than the Flood. Shorter though, I’ll grant you that.”

He’d expected Aziraphale to say something prim, maybe attempt some argument about ineffability one more time but instead he was giving him the strangest look as if he’d sprouted a second head.

“I said it was strange, don’t you think?” he tried again.

“Crawly,” he said, followed by what sounded like gibberish.

“Come again?” he said in bemusement.

Aziraphale repeated himself, looking more alarmed by the second. He flailed a bit, pointed to his mouth, and Crowley could taste his fear on the air.

And yet, Crowley had no idea what he was saying.

Suddenly, it all clicked. Well, then. Apparently, “scattering the humans” was intended in both a literal and figurative sense and, more frustrating still, it was affecting non-humans as well. That struck Crowley as enormously unfair; why should they be punished? Sure, Crowley thought the tower was a good idea, but Aziraphale had had nothing to do with it.

Regardless, they weren’t speaking the same language anymore, which would be difficult to navigate to say the least. With mounting horror, he considered that every tribe might have its own language now and he… he would have to learn all of them, wouldn’t he? If he wanted to keep his job on Earth, he had to master everything about mankind regardless of how much of a hassle it would be. Lovely.

Still, Crowley wasn’t one to be put down for long. Just because they couldn’t communicate via a human tongue just yet didn’t mean they couldn’t talk at all. There was still the language of demons and, well, angels, though he was a little less keen on attempting Enochian.

He attempted something in demonic first. Aziraphale cringed slightly at the sound but there wasn’t any spark of recognition. It figured an angel wouldn’t bother to learn the language of the enemy. (And why had Hell insisted on creating its own language anyway?) He still recalled Enochian, the Celestial Speech, though he shuddered inwardly at the thought of actually employing it. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures.

 _“I think speech was divided,”_ he said quickly, gagging as he did so. The holy tongue burned with more fire than Hell.

 _“Oh, thank God,”_ Aziraphale exclaimed. _Er, that is, this isn’t ideal, but it is good to hear you speaking sensibly once more! I agree with your interpretation,”_ Aziraphale continued, _“but don’t push yourself, Crawly. Let’s just travel to one of those tribes and we’ll learn together, shall we?”_

He looked worried, which warmed Crowley a bit. _“H-how,”_ he forced out, _“do you know—_ ach!— _that we’ll pick one either of us speaks?”_

 _“I don’t,”_ Aziraphale said patiently, _“but surely that doesn’t matter. If neither of us speaks the language we’ll simply learn it together.”_

Crowley simply nodded. His tongue felt numb and his entire jaw hurt. He could feel the pain starting to spread upwards and he knew he was in for one hell of a headache.

Aziraphale let out a soft _oh_ of sympathy, his eyes shone with it, and he reached out a hand to cradle his face. It was completely unexpected, so much so Crowley didn’t stop him. He rubbed a soothing circle against his cheek and for a moment he looked so unbearably fond of him Crowley wondered if he’d accidentally taken on someone else’s form. Could he do that? He’d never tried.

He tried to say something, he wasn’t even sure what, but Aziraphale shushed him and grabbed him by the arm.

_“Come on, we’d best get going. We can point to things and say it in our new languages and see if we can’t figure it out by the time we get there. We’re an angel and a demon; we should be naturals at languages!”_

As it turned out, Aziraphale was perfectly correct. Within about five hours they’d worked out the basic linguistic structure of each other’s languages as well as several nouns. They kept mixing the two up in conversation though, so it would be a while yet before conversations were at all fluid. Whenever they hit a really rough patch Aziraphale would clarify in Enochian. Crowley didn’t bother trying to clarify anything; the one time he tried Aziraphale had clamped a hand over his mouth and sternly said, _“Really now; don’t be absurd.”_

When they reached the first tribe before them, they were relieved to find that they spoke the same language as Crowley, which sped things up considerably. They were given lodging and after that things improved. Crowley couldn’t say he was a big fan of separating all the languages though. What was the point? Humans had a hard enough time understanding each other as it was; why make it harder?

But that had always been his problem, hadn’t it? Always asking the wrong questions. He glanced over at Aziraphale who was currently feigning sleep, mostly for the benefit of the humans passing by, and he wondered why Aziraphale hadn’t Fallen. He knew he had questions. He hadn’t spoken them but they were there, plain as day. It made Crowley lo—like him just a little bit more but he couldn’t help but wonder why one was punished while the other wasn’t.

He wasn’t angry exactly nor was he jealous just … puzzled. He didn’t really expect the world to be fair but that was supposed to be because of his lot not because of some indiscernible thing, the thing, in this case, being God.

“I think there will be a lot to learn,” Aziraphale said suddenly. “The world will be more interesting now, don’t you think?”

“Suppose so,” Crowley said.

“Think of all the new stories, the new ways of thinking… oh, it will be marvelous. Maybe this wasn’t a punishment at all.”

Crowley hummed softly in consideration. Maybe. Aziraphale was an angel; maybe he knew more about this than Crowley could. Still, all he could think of was how many more problems this divide would cause rather than any potential adventure stemming from it.

 _Maybe I’m more of a pessimist than I thought,_ he considered dryly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, sorry about the break there! I hope you all enjoyed reading about these two's adventures in Babel; I had fun writing them. ^^


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